All I hope, selfishly, is that there will be real books until the day I draw my last breath. Jane Hamilton More Quotes by Jane Hamilton More Quotes From Jane Hamilton ...you have to learn where your pain is. You have to burrow down and find the wound, and if the burden of it is too terrible to shoulder, you have to shout it out; you have to shout for help... And then finally, the way through grief is grieving. Jane Hamilton pain grief grieving Is it love that connects us, is that what it is? I never knew that the feeling I have is regular old love because it's so-intricate. Perhaps there is another name for it, one we don't yet know. I used to think that love was simple and noticeable, like rain falling, so that just as you'd look at your skin and say Water, you would also wake in the morning and say Love. But it has been underneath, this new and old thing I feel, subterranean, silent and steady, like blood, rushing along and along without often making itself known. Jane Hamilton rain morning fall From early on I valued the gift of memory above all others. I understood that as we grow older we carry a whole nation around inside of us, places and ways that have disappeared, believing that they are ours, that we alone hold the torch for our past, that we are as impenetrable as stone. Jane Hamilton memories believe past We're only passers-by, and all you can do is love what you have in your life. A person has to fight the meanness that sometimes comes with you when you're born, sometimes grows if you aren't in lucky surroundings. It's our challenge to fend it off, leave it behind us choking and gasping for breath in the mud. It's our task to seek out something with truth for us, no matter if there is a hundred-mile obstacle course in the way, or a ramshackle old farmhouse that binds and binds. Jane Hamilton tasks fighting challenges It is books that are a key to the wide world; if you can't do anything else, read all that you can. Jane Hamilton keys education book She read books quickly and compulsively, paperback after paperback, as if she might drift away without the anchor of the printed page. Jane Hamilton anchors might book There were so many miracles at work: that a blossom might become a peach, that a bee could make honey in its thorax, that rain might someday fall. I thought then about the seasons changing, and in the gray of night I could almost will myself to see the azure sky, the gold of the maple leaves, the crimson of the ripe apples, the hoarfrost on the grass. Jane Hamilton rain night fall I feel like I don't have all the ingredients a person is supposed to have. Jane Hamilton ingredients persons feels Ordinary life was laced with miracles, I knew that, had read enough poetry to understand that we are elevated with the knowing, and yet it was difficult to notice and be grateful when one was continually fatigued and irritated. I suppose that unquenchable sense of wonder is what separates us dolts from the saints and the poets. Jane Hamilton grateful miracle knowing My god has always been a laissez-faire deity, giving you the initial goods and sending you on to make your way. Jane Hamilton laissez-faire giving way It's all a big old chain. There isn't one unconnected link. Jane Hamilton chains bigs links I used to think if you fell from grace it was more likely than not the result of one stupendous error, or else an unfortunate accident. I hadn't learned that it can happen so gradually you don't lose your stomach or hurt yourself in the landing. You don't necessarily sense the motion. I've found it takes at least two and generally three things to alter the course of a life: You slip around the truth once, and then again, and one more time, and there you are, feeling, for a moment, that it was sudden, your arrival at the bottom of the heap. Jane Hamilton hurt two thinking It is a rule of nature that taking a day off on the farm sets a person back at least a week. Jane Hamilton days-off week nature We all need people to tell us that we were the ones who had been deeply wronged. Jane Hamilton wronged people needs Our mission in life is not to discover our fate as we go along, or even to procreate, but rather to fill up the endless gray void that is time. Jane Hamilton void fate time Life on earth, filled with uncertainty and change, seemed far more difficult than what lay beyond the grave. Jane Hamilton graves difficult earth This was life, I supposed, running and running and running, and realizing along the way that the phantom was getting closer. Jane Hamilton phantoms running way The magical descriptions of Italy and hilarious observations about love, travel, natives and foreigners in Love in Idleness are but a few of its many pleasures. Amanda Craig has created a hot shimmery climate in which a cast of old friends, quirky family members and naughty children who make love potions come to know themselves and their hearts. A delightful brew. Jane Hamilton naughty heart children It was impossible not to admire him, not to want to do something to contain that kind of beauty- drink him, ingest him, sneak into his shirt and hide for the rest of one's natural life. Jane Hamilton kind impossible want In the end maybe what marriage offered was the determination of one's burial site. Jane Hamilton marriage determination ends
